The Boy in the Chapel
by Bright Silver Lady of Midnight
Summary: Do we love across time, or in spite of it? Joe was a quarterback, and he had everything any high school boy could ever want. When he's found dead in a chapel, Brennan and Booth find themselves up to their ears in a world they've never experienced before.
1. Chapter 1

Agent Booth and Doctor Brennan ducked under yellow caution tapes and dodged FBI squints as they made their way up to the gray stone building with stained glass windows.

An FBI squint lead them up to a side entrance with a grand door made of dark, shining wood. Booth quickly shushed Brennan, though she hadn't been talking, and led them into the room.

It was small, but no one could say it was neglected. Though the room smelled of dust, every wood surface was dusted and polished to a shine, the red velvet cushions seemed clean enough.

It was evident to see why Doctor Brennan had been called in. A skeleton was on its knees before the alter, its hands and feet tied together with what looked to be a singed rope.

Doctor Brennan snapped on latex gloves, "Victim is fifteen to eighteen caucasian male. He seems to be-" she had been walking towards the remains, but Booth yanked her back by the arm.

"Bones," he hissed, "you can't just waltz in here like that."

Bones was confused, "What are you talking about, Booth? I'm identifying the remains."

"But you can't... Bones, this is the house of _God."_

"God doesn't exist, Booth," she said and broke free of his grasp.

He looked like he wanted to go after her, but an FBI squint, one who was new to the job, came up to him with a question. Doctor Brennan proceeded to examine the remains, making observations to herself, "The bones seemed slightly charred. Anterior ribs six and seven are snapped in half. Angela can do a facial reconstruction once we get back to the Jeffersonian. Hmmm... that's odd," she said

"What is?" Booth asked, having finished with his squint, and now was completely ignoring the fact that she was in front of the alter of God

"He appears to have been tortured."

_***_

"Alright, I've finished the reconstruction and I'm running it through the missing persons database," Angela said as Brennan hung over her shoulder

The faces stopped whirring by and a match showed up. Looking up at them was an auburn-haired blue-eyed boy wearing a sweatshirt that said St. John the Baptists's Preparatory School for Gifted Young Men across the front. The side of the picture said; Joseph Mitsotakis.

He was smiling blissfully, like he was the happiest man on earth.

Nika Antonov, the new intern, leaned over Angela's other shoulder and placed both her hands on the desk before her, a diamond and ring glittering on the third finger of her left hand, "He's kind of cute," when the other two women looked up at her, she defended herself by saying, "you know, for a kid."

"I'll go get Booth," Brennan said and walked out of the room

_***_

The boy's house was quaint, but still held that 'white picket house fence' all-American feel. Booth walked next to Brennan, like a faithful little puppy.

They bantered back and forth about trivial things; Had Brennan gotten her television fixed yet? No? What a shame. How was Parker? Good? How nice.

A woman answered the door, half-hidden behind it, "Yes? May I help you?"

"I'm Doctor Brennan with the Jeffersonian, in partnership with the FBI. This is Agent Booth. May we come in?" Brennan asked

The woman's eyes widened in fear, but she nodded and made way. She lead them into what appeared to be the living room, and gestured for them to sit down on the couch.

A man walked into the room, "I didn't know we were having company," he said

"You may want to sit down," Booth said

He gave Booth a questioning look, but sat down anyway.

"It's about Joseph," Booth said

"Is he in trouble?" Mrs. Mitsotakis asked

Mr. Mitsotakis stood up and roared, "I knew it! I saw it coming! It's that damned girl he's been hanging around! I warned him, and lo and behold she corrupted him!"

"Mr. Mitsotakis, please sit down," Booth said in his 'serious' voice, getting up. He stood taller than the other man, who reluctantly sat back down again, "Joseph was found dead in Lady Mary of Mercy's chapel."

Mrs. Mitsotakis broke out in tears. Mr. Mitsotakis roared, "Dead in Mary Mercy's chapel! My boy!"

"Yes, sir, and damage to the remains suggests-" Brennan began

"That he never saw it coming," Booth cut her off

Realization hit Brennan and she kept quiet about how she found conclusive evidence that he had been burned alive.

"Who... who would do such a thing to my Joseph?" Mrs. Mitsotakis asked

"I'll tell you who, that damned Blythe girl!" Mr. Mitsotakis roared, having found his voice again, "That damned Blythe girl was the end of my boy! She killed him! She corrupted him, and then she killed him!"

"Mr. Mitsotakis, please sit down," Booth said

"Who is this 'Blythe girl?'" Brennan asked

"Mary Blythe, his girlfriend," Mrs. Mitsotakis said quietly, "she's a troubled young soul. Smells like smoke all the time, sometimes like liquor."

"Troubled young soul my foot! The girl was bad for him, and I warned him!" Mr. Mitsotakis yelled, "I warned him, but did he listen? No! He'd rather let the-" and here he said a word which cannot be transcribed, in case children are reading this, "corrupt and kill him!"

Brennan and Booth looked at each other. They'd check out Mary Blythe, then come back here.

"Thank you for your help. We're very sorry for your loss," Booth said, putting a hand on Mrs. Mitsotakis's shoulder

_***_

_This is my first Bones story, so forgive me if it sucks._

_~Madison_


	2. Chapter 2

Hodgins walked up the steps of the platform, swiping his card with an excited look on his face, "I found traces of propane, isobutane, and n-butane on ribs A1 through A7, on both sides," he announced proudly

Angela gave him a blank look.

"Lighter fluid... except...." he trailed off, enjoying it when everyone leaned forward to hear

"Yes...." Angela said

"I also found avia hellas and atladis, which has never, _ever_ been commonly found in America. I'm running through the particulates to find out where it came from," off of the platform, a machine beeped.

Hodgins walked off of the platform, and his smile widened.

"Jack... what is it?" Angela asked warily

"I've narrowed down the search considerably. There's only one place in the world that still has avia hellas and atladis naturally... that place is Athens, Greece."

_***_

Booth knocked on the door to the considerably less all-American house. There was no fence, but the trees they had to drive through would keep out any burglar.

The trees had lost their leaves for the winter, giving the isolated house by the gray lake a distinctly Halloween horror story feel. The ground was covered in orange and yellow leaves. Since it had rained the day before, they were damp and clung to everything.

A young woman, short and dark-haired, answered the door, "You Jehovah's Witnesses?" She asked, looking them up and down

She leaned up against the door, her left arm in a seemingly uncomfortable position on it.

"Agent Booth, FBI. This is Doctor Brennan, with the Jeffersonian," Booth said

"You can't come in," the girl said, "You don't have probable cause."

"Are you Mary Blythe?"

"I don't have to answer that."

"Its about Joseph."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"He's dead."

"Tell me something I don't freaking know," and she slammed the door in their faces.

_***_

Of course, Booth and Brennan brought her in for questioning so quickly that her head almost spun.

"How did you know Joseph was dead?" Booth asked

Nothing.

"Where were you between the hours of three and five on the morning of Sunday the tenth?" He tried again

"Asleep." She said in an offhand tone, checking her nails

"Do you have an alibi?" He asked

"My sister and I share a room, but she was asleep."

"Your sister a light sleeper?"

"Not really, no. She doesn't wake up when I have to go to the bathroom."

"So... you could've snuck out that morning and killed him?"

"Well... no, I couldn't've. It goes against my religion. Besides, the tenth was a Sunday. I wouldn't've woken up until eight, to get ready for Meeting."

"Meeting? What kind of meeting?"

"Religious worship. I'm a Hicksite Friend."

_***_

"Okay, so apparently the Hicksites split off from the Quakers, or Friends," Angela said, a stack of papers in her hand

"Go on...." Cam trailed off

"The Quakers being a group of people who believe that there's that of God in everyone. I was speaking to one Greta Fell, a Quaker activist," she said, "and apparently, the schism resolved itself in the fifties."

"So then why does Mary Blythe still consider herself a Hicksite?" Cam asked

"I don't know, but I found these." Angela said, handing the stack of papers to Cam.

Cam read a few lines, and looked up in confusion, "And this is...."

"That's the history of St. John the Baptist's Prep. and its sister school, Marion Mercy Academy."

_***_

Nika Antonov preferred to leave her past in her past. No one could make her bring it out, not even Vashya. Or so she thought. When she saw the familiar face smiling at her like an angel from a monitor in the Jefferson, she dropped everything she was holding, which were only papers, thankfully.

"Saints alive, God protect us all," she whispered, mortified, making the sign of the cross over herself. All the blood drained from her face as she walked away as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself.

_***_

"Yeah, that's Joey alright," Brian MacDonahue, one of Joseph's classmates, said, as Brennan showed him a picture, "Damn, I can't believe it. He was such a great guy."

"Did anyone have a grudge against him, or any reason to hurt him?" Booth asked

"Nah, nobody- wait, no. Mary Blythe, his girlfriend. They apparently had some huge fight. No one knows exactly what about, though. Personally, I think its because Joey was pushing her to do the nasty with him."

"Did Mary seem angry around the time Joseph was last seen?"

"I could never tell. That Mary chick and her oldest sister, Mira, freak the hell out of me. Mary never smiles. Mira... she had her own agenda, you know? Always acting like she had some bigger plan, some bigger role to play. She was only about ten months older than Anne and Mary, which is real creepy, you ask my opinion."

"_Was?"_ Booth asked

"Yeah. She graduated early, got married to this huge Russian dude called Dimitri, and no one's heard from her since."

"Do you have any idea where she'd be?"

"From what I've heard, she and her husband moved back to Russia. His student visa ran out, so she became a citizen in the city where he's from and they moved back."

"Do you know what city he's from?"

"Dude, its _Russian. _I can't pronounce Russian. Its some big city, like, Novirbirsk or something like that," he said

_***_

"The kid meant Novosibirsk," Angela said, "I'm running the name Mira Blythe through their phone listings, residential tax listings... something wrong, Nika?" She asked, looking at the intern's hands, which had a vice-like grip on the table.

Her tendons stood out white against her skin, her knuckles bulging. She was intently staring down at the remains of Joseph Mitsotakis, as if the murderer's name would be written across his forehead.

"Mira Blythe, did you say?" She asked

"Yeah... why?"

"No reason," she said.

The sounds of I Gotta Feeling by the Black Eyed Peas played through the room, "That's mine," Nika said. Upon looking at the caller ID, she continued, "I have to go."

She left the room, making the sign of the cross over herself as she crossed the threshold.

_***_

_Hello, readers. I would like to thank my reviewer and subscriber, Writer Chica. _


	3. Chapter 3

"There is no Mira Blythe who fits our profile in Nobosibirsk, Moscow, Saint Petersburg, or anywhere else in Russia, for that matter," Angela sighed, putting a file down in front of Brennan

"Not necessarily a bad thing," Nika said, "What? I'm thinking big picture here, people. If she didn't go to Russia, and that's the only place that he could go back to, then where must they be?" She defended herself when everyone looked up at her with a 'WTF' look.

"She's got a point. Angela, will you please run the name Mira Blythe through tax listings?" Cam asked

"Yeah, I'll get right on it," Angela sighed

_***_

_Blythe house, five days prior_

Joe cradled Anne's head in his hands and leaned in to kiss her. They were working on their Home Ec project, which was to bake a cake. She was so much more... manageable than Mary, who had an explosive temper.

The kiss was a sweet one. He didn't want to pull away from her, but he did anyway. She initiated the next kiss.

The kitchen door opened, "Hey, Annie, I'm- what the _fuck!_" Mary Blythe yelled

"Mary... Mary, baby, she-"

"No, shut up, Seph. Get out."

Joe, still afraid from the last time Mary's temper had gotten away from her, quickly ran out.

"_You. _You caused this, Anne."

"_I _didn't do anything. He was all over me," she protested

"Go to hell, Anne. You drew him in, and you know it," Mary said, walking out of the kitchen and slamming the door behind her

_***_

"I've read through this," Cam told Booth, "In Marion Mercy, about fifty years ago, there was a girl named Maryanne Blytheford who set fire to the auditorium. Killed three people, left one wounded. Check out the picture."

She showed Booth an exact replica of Mary Blythe, though she was wearing a skirt and blouse, rather than the jeans Booth had seen her in before.

"Relation, do you think?" Booth asked

"Not sure. We have the survivor in the questioning room."

_***_

Mary Blythe didn't care that she was getting wasted at one in the afternoon, in broad daylight. She didn't care that if she was caught, that she had enough strikes against her to send her to the state prison.

She was alone in the woods, drinking vodka. Anne would be angry when she found out; this had been imported from Russia. Mary didn't care. They had enough money to get more, didn't they?

Her senses were dulled, her reflexes all but shot. She should've felt terrible, but... no. She felt higher than the atmosphere, like she could take on the world. She knew this wouldn't last, though. She'd have one killer migraine tomorrow.

Her reactions were slow enough that she didn't see or hear the bear until it was about five feet away from her.

_***_

"Ah, Maryanne Blytheford," Beatrice Cliffton said.

"So you remember her?" Booth clarified

"Remember her? She killed my boyfriend and made me watch, Agent Booth."

"So he was dead before the fire started?" Brennan asked

"Bones-" Booth began, but was cut off.

"No, no. I understand. Yes, Doctor Brennan, he was dead before the fire started. She shot him in the forehead. I remember it well...."

_***_

_Marion Mercy Academy for Gifted Young Women auditorium. June 3, 1946._

_Five minutes after the deaths of Bernice "Bunny" MacDougal, Frankford "Frankie" Hale, and Andrea "Andi" Robb_

"It was... horrible," I sobbed to the police men

"What happened exactly? Do you remember?" A police man asked kindly

"Yeah," I sniffed and tried to gain control of myself

Marie Blytheford, Maryanne's sister, walked up. She looked hysterical, for the most popular girl at school, "Bee! Bee, thank God I found you! What _the hell _happened? I come back from lunch and nobody's talking to me, the auditorium's burned to the ground, Maryanne's supposedly dead, and I can't find Bunny, Frankie or Andi!"

"Rie," I said somberly, "Frankie, Andi, and Bunny are dead. Maryanne shot Frankie, then she burned the auditorium to the ground with Andi and Bunny in it. Then she ran off somewhere."

Marie, or as I call her, "Rie," made a hysterical noise, "And Imira? Where's she?"

"I don't know, Rie!"

"I know. I have to get my family together," she said, pressing her palm to her mouth to stifle her sob.

_***_

"The name Mira Blythe doesn't come up, but I found something like it," Angela said

Nika Antonov walked into the room, "What's going on, guys?"

"I didn't find Mira Blythe, but I _did _find _Vladimira _Blythe, and I'm guessing that Mira is a nickname for Vladimira."

"Cool. So where is she?"

"I think you know," Angela said

Brennan gave her a questioning look, but kept quiet.

"Yeah," she looked sincere and slightly apologetic, "I do."

_***_

_Thank you, Reniefuwa and Writer Chica. _


End file.
